


Cultural Imperatives

by nayanroo



Series: Kingsverse [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, Fury feels, Gen, Tony Feels, feels everywhere, things not to apologize for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayanroo/pseuds/nayanroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The holidays are upon Stark Tower; unfortunately, it wouldn't be the Avengers without a disaster and people that need saving.  Tony just wishes that the people needing saving weren't his newest friends.  Besides, the king and queen of Asgard are visiting.  And why is Steve sneaking around?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cultural Imperatives

**Author's Note:**

> For Caitlin, who is a light in dark places. Happy Holidays, everyone!

New York City was always alight; with its population, there were only a very few times when the lights were out. But around Christmas the city was more than a beacon. Between the snow and ice and lights that limned every building, it _sparkled._

Down Park Avenue, every building had some kind of decorations up, but as it towered over Grand Central Station, Stark Tower outdid them all. Teams had been moving about all over the outside of the building, hanging thousands of lights, and in the lobby a tree done up in red and gold towered over employees and visitors alike. Most of it was Pepper’s corporate side, but up in the penthouse and living areas, her personal touches came out.

The decorations up here were far more eclectic, everyone contributing something no matter how small or strange it was. In the common areas – the guest floor, the entry floor – a tree had been placed, and decorated according to the tastes of whoever had come by at the time. The entry floor’s tree had multicolored lights and was dominated by Hallmark ornaments, handmade things, ornaments bought from street-side vendors. It already had presents piling up under it.

Pepper had also supervised the tree in the guest room, having deemed it necessary so that her boyfriend’s more risqué ornaments didn’t make it out. This one was done in green and gold and a dark red – which, while they were seasonally appropriate, also fit the guests who would soon be coming to stay over the holidays. When she’d hung the last ornament, Pepper had stood back and admired the effect when she’d turned on the white strands of lights, smiling. Her preparations had gone well and smoothly.

Other things in the tower, though, were not so smooth.

“But _why_?”

Natasha hid a smile at the whiny note in Tony’s voice. Despite their assertion the Avengers were a functional team (and between the summer and now there had been a small few situations wherein they had had to step in, as organizations that had long kept to themselves tentatively reared their nasty heads) there was no love lost or gained between her and Tony Stark, and that was how she liked it. He had changed from how he was before, but she couldn’t help that parts of his personality – parts that extended to include _most_ of it – got on her nerves more often than not. Luckily, he tended to make up for it by making sure her stocks of armament, her supplies of herbal tea, and her privacy were well-maintained whenever she stayed in her apartments in Stark Tower. The problem was that Tony seemed to think this granted him permanent easement for wandering in and bothering her, like he was now. At least this time it came off as more endearing than anything else.

“I don’t choose my missions,” she told him. “I might be part of this team, but there aren’t any immediate threats and this is urgent. Fury gave Clint and I our marching orders.”

“But it’s _Christmas._ ”

“I’ll be back by Christmas Eve, probably.”

“Probably? _Probably_?”

“Field missions are unpredictable, Stark, you know that.” She zipped up her small black pack and slung it crossways over her back as she walked out of her apartment. Tony trailed after her, as forlorn as could be as they made their way up to the entry floor. She could hear the low _thump-thump_ of the helicopter waiting for them on the landing pad already. “Fury decided we were needed, so we’re going.”

“Fury,” Tony proclaimed loudly as they climbed the last few stairs into the sunny lounge, “Is a Grinch. He hates Christmas.”

“Director Fury keeps the holiday in his own way, Mr. Stark, and believe me when I say neither one of us wanted to have to send anyone out right now,” Coulson said. He was immaculate as always, two black SHIELD Special Ops folders clasped in his crossed arms. “But he deemed this situation important enough not to delay on it. Agent Romanoff,” and he handed her one of the folders after they exchanged nods of greeting. “Where’s Agent Barton?”

“Probably still counting his arrows and deciding what trick ones he wants to take along. He always takes forever if he can help it.”

“Does nobody else care about the fact they’re leaving and it’s only a week until Christmas?”

“We care, Tony.” Steve looked up from his tablet, where he’d been flicking between things and frowning thoughtfully. Once he’d figured out how, he’d activated the security and privacy settings on the thing, so that from any angle but straight-on it was impossible to see what was on the screen. “But the rest of us get that Fury needed them. You’re the only one making a big deal about it.”

Tony stalked off to the bar, grumbling under his breath, and Steve went back to whatever it was he was doing. It was quiet in the Tower right now, anyway; Bruce was still downstairs in one of the labs tinkering, Thor and Jane were having an early Christmas with her family (in part to get them used to him, in part to get _him_ used to _them_ , and to start making wedding plans), and Pepper was in D.C. until a couple days before Christmas herself. That was perhaps part of the source of Tony’s nosiness. Without Pepper around to entertain him – without her around in general to keep him grounded – he tended to flights of fancy.

Natasha was about to politely ask JARVIS if he could tell Clint to hurry it up when the elevator doors pinged open. It wasn’t Clint, but Darcy strutted out, her very correct and corporate business suit clashing more than a little with her beat-up messenger bag. She’d begun splitting her time between her duties as Asgardian ambassador and her schoolwork, Culver having been more than happy to work out a suitable arrangement so that she could keep up with her classes while still being able to immerse herself in thousands of years of Asgard’s history, read the messages that came for her from Loki or Sif at least a few times a week giving her instructions on how to handle this country or that demand, and wrangle their diplomatic schedule as best she could.

“Ambassador!” Tony waved his glass of amber-colored liquor in her general direction. “You’re good at negotiating things. Negotiate Coulson telling Fury that Natasha and Clint can’t leave on a mission to Timbuktu right now.”

“Not in my job description,” she said briskly, peering at him over her glasses. “You have helmet hair.”

Tony grunted and ran a hand over his head; it stuck up now, instead of being squished to one side. “Pepper says it’s good PR for Iron Man to show up at schools.”

“Ms. Potts is correct,” Coulson said. Tony shot him a look.

“Mail call,” Darcy said, and clicked over to Steve, pulling out a wax-sealed envelope and a leather bag that clinked softly as she handed it over. “A messenger from Asgard just left.”

“What did they want?” Coulson’s tone of voice hadn’t changed, but his posture spoke of interest, eyes flicking briefly over to Steve as he tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, reading it. Darcy shrugged.

“Just wanted to know how things were going, preparations for the impending diplomatic visit by the king and queen of Asgard. Boring stuff.”

“Why does Steve get fan mail all the time?” Tony asked suddenly. “This is like the fourth letter he’s gotten – and I know that’s from Loki, he always uses gold wax—“

“That’s because gold is one of the colors of the House of Odin,” Darcy told him. “He uses it on _everything._ ” She clicked over to Tony and showed him a second letter, this one addressed in Loki’s hand to one of the foreign embassies in New York. “See?”

“Doesn’t answer the question.” Tony waved his glass at Steve. “Are you guys pen pals or something? I didn’t think you two would be, but you know, there’s no accounting for—“

“I’m here, I’m here,” Clint called as he bounded up the last few steps, adjusting his quiver on his back, collapsed bow in hand. “I’m ready to go whenever you two are.”

Coulson handed him the other folder. “A little light reading for the flight out to the ‘carrier,” he said. “It’s all in there. Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” Natasha said, and the three of them made their way out the door leading up to the landing pad. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll be back.”

Steve stood up as well, tucking letter and bag into a pocket and thumbing his tablet off. “I’ve got a couple errands to run, myself.”

“Great, wonderful, I’ll go with you. JARVIS, can you—“

“I’d rather do this myself, thanks.” Steve gave Tony a funny sort of grin. “Last-minute Christmas shopping. I wouldn’t want to ruin your surprise.”

“Captain,” Tony said patiently. “There already are an equal number of presents under the tree with both our names on them.”

“And I just thought of something else. I’ll drive myself, thanks for the offer of company though.” 

“Be home in time for dinner!” Tony yelled after him, then made a face at Darcy. “Nobody appreciates me here.”

“I appreciate you, Tony.” Darcy reached across the bar and patted his arm in a conciliatory sort of way. “But I’ve got to run. The boss gives me instructions, I’ve gotta see ‘em out.”

When she was gone, Tony drained his glass and set it down, making a face at the suddenly empty room. “Nobody has any Christmas spirit,” he sighed.

*

Steve returned a few hours later and refused to talk about his errands, saying Tony would understand soon; he went to go harass Bruce in the lab and ended up tinkering around with a design for something like a personal force field that would repel anything up to a .50 caliber bullet. He’d seen Loki demonstrate something like it, when last he’d been here. Tony figured what Loki did with magic could be replicated with his own technology, and had busily set about working out the math until he’d gotten sidetracked with other projects.

The math was open in another holographic display beside him, though, and as he rotated the design while JARVIS simulated activation and repulsion of various projectiles, Tony reached over with his other hand and tweaked equations as well. It was comforting to work with normal variables, to not have to understand lines of runes that translated to _the gatekeeper watches the road ahead_ or _the well-made shield remains unbroken in the fiercest heat_.

“How’s it coming?” Bruce asked from across the lab.

“Adequately.” Tony activated a simulation, pursed his lips in displeasure as he watched it. “Still having trouble with shrapnel deflection. Too many little pieces, too many strikes. It ends up overloading.”

“Need to find a better way to conduct energy from your power source. Find some way to compensate. Or have a ‘shrapnel’ setting.”

“Except in the time it would take to activate that, the user would be riddled with shrapnel.” Tony pulled up his running log of notes on this project and spun around in his chair, twiddling with one of his holographic probes. “JARVIS, note!”

“Ready, sir.”

“Look into developing some kind of brainwave interface.”

“Noted, sir.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t like a program – or any kind of technology, really – that was able to read my thoughts. That’s a dangerous road to start down.”

“Then I’d just program it not to exceed its parameters.”

“And someone else would program it to do whatever it wanted.” Bruce reached up though, looking over the digital design. “Still, it’s very elegant. I don’t know too much about engineering, to be honest, but I can tell that much.”

Tony took Bruce by the shoulders. “You, my friend, are the only one here who truly likes me.”

“Uh…”

“Clint and Natasha took a mission, Bruce. A mission! It’s right before Christmas!”

“They’ll be back.” Bruce went back to his workstation, but kept his eyes on Tony, who was now spinning disconsolately in his chair. “I was talking to Natasha about it. They’re supposed to be back by Christmas Eve.”

“Not the point.” Tony leaned back so he was looking at Bruce upside-down. “They’re leaving. And Steve’s running errands or something for Loki. And Pepper’s in D.C. And Thor and Jane won’t be back until the same day Bonnie and Clyde get in. You are all I have, Bruce.”

Used to Tony’s theatrics as he was, Bruce just pursed his lips and prodded at his display until what he was working on was running simulations and Tony was back to spinning. “You sure seem to care a lot about Christmas,” he said finally. He didn’t realize he’d hit a soft spot until the noise of Tony spinning in his chair stopped. Looking up, Bruce realized his friend was just sitting there, face cupped in his hands, staring off into space.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean—“

“Christmas wasn’t really—I mean, with my dad working all the time, and after Mom was gone...” Tony was quiet, and Bruce stayed silent himself, letting his friend get it all out. “I didn’t really have the best holidays. No one to spend ‘em with, you know. Then came Pepper, and…” he turned to face Bruce, and for once there wasn’t any of that carefully-cultivated disaffection that made up _Tony._ “And now I have you guys, and it’s like having a family. Without you guys – without Pepper… I’d just be alone.” 

He subsided then, spinning around so he was facing away, and Bruce quieted down and said nothing, knowing Tony would speak again when he was ready. It wasn’t often that this other side showed itself, and to push it would only make Tony clam up, brush it off. Bruce knew the importance of acknowledging emotions.

Sure enough, after a few minutes had passed, Tony – sounding perfectly normal, back to his usual effuse self, said, “But everyone is _leaving_ and _keeping secrets_.”

“Well, if we told you what your presents were…”

Tony shot a look his way. “You know what I mean.” He got up suddenly, and Bruce began to worry at the very determined expression on his face. “You know what? I don’t appreciate people keeping secrets from me _in my building_. I am gonna get to the bottom of this.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You want some help with that?”

“Oh, no,” Tony returned, waving a hand back in Bruce’s general direction. “Oh, no. I’ve got this.”

*

Except, Tony found out, he didn’t. 

Steve staunchly refused to answer any questions that day about what he’d been doing, saying that in a day or two it would all be clear and he could explain to Tony what was going on. This continued on to the next day, as did Coulson’s radio silence with him (though to be honest, Tony privately admitted that much was expected). Darcy was busy making her preparations for the formal holiday gala being held at the gorgeous Asgardian embassy on east 46th and said she knew nothing, but the way she grinned said she did.

He was not pleased. Not pleased at all.

So he called SHIELD and yelled his way up through the chain of command until a very strained Maria Hill finally snapped.

“For fuck’s sake, Mr. Stark,” she almost, _almost_ yelled at him. “You want to talk to the director? _Fine._ I’ll put him on the line.”

“Thank you, Agent,” Tony told her, putting as much charm as he possibly could into his voice. The full-on used car salesman tone that he’d heard used hundreds of times by hundreds of different people trying to get him to spend his money their way. “I appreciate your brave service to the fine organization of SHIELD.”

The line went to the soft tones of ‘on hold’ before he had even finished, and Tony pushed his lab chair back and forth across the floor – Bruce had either left the lab early that day or not come in at all and was thus not there to give him slightly disapproving, amused looks – as he waited. After a few minutes, the line picked up, and an all-too-familiar, gruff voice came on the line.

“What the hell do you want, Mr. Stark?”

“I want to know why you decided to send Natasha and Clint off right before Christmas.”

“Is this really what you’ve spent the last—“ a pause while Fury probably checked whatever kind of clock he had handy “—hour and a half yelling at my command staff about?”

“It’s Christmas, Fury.” Tony leaned on his elbow, reaching for a length of wiring and absently beginning to twist it into interesting shapes. “I don’t care if you have them chasing stolen plans for the Death Star, it’s not as important as Christmas with the team.”

“Since when did _you_ care?”

“Since—just—now, Fury.” Tony glared at the piece of wire; he’d folded it into a near-perfect hexagon, but Fury had made him fudge one of the sides. “Look, we had _plans_.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“You guys are my star players, Stark. I keep tabs. And Barton told me.”

“So _why_ did—“

“Just because it was developed as a stabilizer for energy conduction don’t mean _squat_ , Stark. You of all people should know that things that can be used to help people can just as easily be used to kill them.” They both paused; Tony ground his jaw, and he imagined Fury doing the same thing on the Command Deck of the helicarrier. “Anyway,” Fury continued after a moment, “We couldn’t let this terrorist cell keep sitting on it. Sooner or later they’d do something with it, and then a lot of people could get hurt.”

Tony hated it when Fury had a point, and he hated it even more when it was something he agreed with. The hexagon became an impossibly tangled knot. “But—“

“Look, you don’t have to agree with my decision, Stark. You’re not the one going on the mission. But Barton and Romanoff are, and they agreed it was necessary, even so close to a holiday, and these kinds of things don’t wait.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, but there had been a strange quality to Fury’s voice – some kind of odd tone that didn’t quite fit in. It didn’t make sense, and it made all the retorts he had die in his throat. “If they’re not back by Christmas Eve I am going to send you strongly-worded letters.”

“Do whatever you want, Stark, it’s not gonna change the fact that they’re already out. They’ll be back in time, or they won’t. They don’t take orders from you.”

He couldn’t refute that. As much as he wanted to, as much as he hated that Fury was still technically the one who directed them, he couldn’t. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though. “I know you probably think the holidays are stupid sentimentality, Fury, but it actually means something to some of us.”

There was a moment of silence on the line, and for that long moment, Tony wondered if he’d actually managed to reach Fury through the man’s tough shell. At least, until Fury spoke again.

“You’d understand better if you had ever had to follow orders,” Fury replied coolly. “I don’t expect you to like my calls, Mr. Stark, only respect ‘em.” The line went dead.

Tony wandered the tower after that. He didn’t feel like working on any of his projects; Steve was in the gym, and Bruce was absorbed in his own work. One pizza and an hour of Christmas carols on Songza later, he was glad for the distraction when JARVIS told him that there was a delivery truck at the garage entrance. Bouncing up off the couch, Tony slapped the call button for the elevator. When he reached the garage level, somehow he wasn’t surprised to see Steve signing something on a clipboard.

“You!” Tony pointed an accusing finger at Steve as he walked up. “You know something about this!”

“I do.” Steve handed the clipboard back with a polite thanks and went around to the back of the truck. “I’ll explain in a minute.”

“No, you’ll explain _now_.” Tony crossed his arms as the back of the truck went up. “Captain, _why_ is there a delivery truck in my private garage?”

It really was disconcerting when Steve had any expression even remotely similar to mischief on his face, but he was grinning ear to ear now, and when Tony saw what came out of the truck, it was suddenly very clear.

“Captain,” he said approvingly. “Can I just say you have _excellent_ taste?”

“I had a little help. Things have changed a lot since I fell asleep… but I think this’ll do nicely.”

“But you already have—“

“Oh,” Steve grinned a little more. “It’s not for me. Let me explain…”

*

When it became clear that travel between Asgard and Earth was going to occur with some frequency, Bethesda Fountain had been established as the official arrival and departure point for New York City. Others had since been arranged in various North American cities: Washington, D.C., Chicago, and San Francisco were the major points in the US; Vancouver and Toronto in Canada; and Mexico City in Mexico; more were being set up abroad, but the fountain had now become a famous stop. People had taken to hanging around, waiting for the clouds announcing an impending arrival to begin swirling up overhead.

Onlookers were in luck today. Messengers from Asgard had been the norm since August and they were spectacular enough in their golden livery; but when the King and Queen of Asgard arrived, they tended to draw a crowd. SHIELD agents in pressed black suits kept the crowd back, but cameras and phones were out as soon as the swirling colors cleared, snapping pictures. Loki gave the crowd one of his more charming smiles, to sounds of delight.

“You enjoy the attention far too much,” Sif murmured out of the corner of her mouth as they were escorted to the SUV idling on the street before them. She wore her armor, but her glaive and shield were stashed in one of Loki’s magical depositories, along with the rest of their things.

Loki swept his cape inside the car before the door was shut after them, still preening a little. “You seem surprised.”

“Only that it hasn’t all gone to your head.”

“You think that it hasn’t?”

“You would be far more insufferable if it had.”

“A fair point.” Loki watched as they passed building after building, people bundled up against the cold either walking or standing to watch the three SHIELD-marked SUVs driving by. “At least it will be no Yule all over again. I thought it was tedious as prince, but it is _exhausting_ as king.”

“You did well in the Hunt, bringing in that hart,” Sif told him. And, a little more crossly, “At least you were not badgered for months beforehand with what color wall hangings ought to be put in the rooms of the esteemed dignitaries of Nidavellr, or the quantity of pine boughs to garland the hearth of those from Alfheim.”

“Ah, yes,” Loki replied with complete seriousness. “One must be sure to hang the right shade of navy blue, lest the dwarves take exception and call for my head.” Sif’s nasty look was only partially mitigated by the brush of her fingertips across his knuckles. “Certainly there will be none of that,” he finished, and was rewarded with another brush of fingers, and then they were driving down the ramp into the main garage of Stark Tower.

Their main welcoming party was upstairs. Jane and Thor were recently returned from California; Jane’s belly was beginning to round, and Thor hovered protectively by her side as Sif embraced her and, after a moment of wheedling, Jane convinced Loki to let himself be hugged too.

“She does well,” Thor said happily, watching as Jane told Sif what her home was like. “The sickness is mostly passed, and both her doctor and Bruce Banner say Jane and the child are healthy. How is home, Brother? How was Yule?”

“Tiring, as ever it is.” Loki made a small motion with his shoulders that Thor correctly interpreted as a shrug. “Asgard prospers in her victory, and her would-be foes are cowed for the moment.”

Thor’s brow furrowed. “You think there will be problems?”

“Better not to be complacent. But now is not the time for such things, Thor, I—“ He was cut off as Thor decided this to be an appropriate time for a brotherly hug of his own, one considerably less dainty than Jane’s. Still, he returned it.

“I am glad you have come, Loki,” Thor told him, and meant it.

They made the rounds after that, and when they were finished, Loki pulled Steve aside a moment, decidedly not fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

“You have done it?” he asked.

“Just like we agreed,” Steve murmured in reply. “Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do.”

“Good. You have my thanks, Captain.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They nodded acknowledgement and Loki returned to the thick of things, satisfied that all was proceeding as planned.

*

Natasha dropped the empty magazine and shoved a new one into her pistol, ducking out to fire a few shots and smiling grimly when the same number of guards dropped. Beside her, Clint pressed the bloodstained gauze a little tighter to his side and adjusted his grip on the black case containing their target. 

“Simple mission, the boss said,” he muttered. Natasha fired two more shots, and for the moment the corridor was silent save their labored breathing and the sound of the guards’ groans of pain.

“Come on,” she snapped, and hauled him up to his feet. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Don’t know how far I can make it, Nat.”

“Far enough,” Natasha growled back at him, and they took off down the corridor as fast as they could. “This is a subterranean base, they built their own caves for the most part but they also used natural ones. But huge sections have just been closed off, aren’t being used. We’ll hole up there, rest until our extraction comes.”

“What if it doesn’t—“

“It’ll come.” They came to a T-junction; Natasha looked left and right and went left, remembering that the right corridor met up with the main outlet of the base. “It’ll come.”

As they limped along, she reached up and hit the activation for her emergency locator beacon. She remembered her own annoyance at Fury insisting on having it sewn into the sleeve of her suit, under the SHIELD logo patch; an infiltrator with a flag on them wasn’t very good at their job, she’d told him. Fury had just given her one of his long, one-eyed stares, and had said it was just a precaution, and better to have it and not need it. She’d have to tell him he had a point, when she and Clint got back.

Natasha kept that last thought in her mind as they ran down into corridors, fighting their way past guards and through blocks and finally getting into the deserted bowels of the base. When they got back, she’d tell Fury he had been right.

When they got back.

*

Darcy had decided it was extremely _weird_ to see Asgardians handling pizza. Thor was less of a problem; they’d shared many a pizza pie in Puente Antiguo. But seeing Sif and Loki with slices balanced in their hands seemed to break the rules of the universe somehow, especially because Loki had done one of his magical quick-changes but only into his less-formal Asgardian wear, which meant he was still head-to-toe black leather and green and gold accents, and Sif’s tunic was definitely not made on this planet.

Though, the weirdness of the image was offset by Loki’s expression as he examined his slice of pizza, loaded with so many toppings the crust and cheese weren’t even visible anymore. It was carefully neutral, which meant he was trying to decide if he should eat it or curse it. Luckily, he was distracted by various Avengers trying to explain Christmas to him.

“I refuse to believe it,” Loki said.

“Well, to be fair,” Jane cut in, “Most scientists believe the star was actually a supernova’s light reaching Earth, or a comet. There’s something to explain it, but obviously we can’t just travel back in time and space to find out exactly what. Perhaps it was even a manifestation of the Bifrost in the upper atmosphere, though the result is usually an aurora, not a flare of starlight. Either way, it was bright enough to navigate by for a period of time.”

“You could always use a spell.”

“Not all of us have magic, Harry Potter,” Tony mumbled around his mouthful of food. Pepper – who had also returned today – gave him a reproachful look. Darcy was a little surprised to see her eating with her hands, but barefoot, dressed in a navy blue velour tracksuit and a white shirt, she did look more relaxed than usual.

“It does make those of us who have it even more unique.” Loki had a distinct air of superiority in his voice, and this time it was Sif directing a look at him.

“My husband is so humble,” she said. “Midgard food is quite flavorful. You have my thanks for the suggestion, Darcy, Tony. For all that this is not like Asgard’s feasts, it is good to have a gathering so close to Yule.”

“Though we do weary of them after a time,” Loki added. “Yule on Asgard consists of twelve consecutive days of feasting, beginning and ending with a hunt led by the king, and it is extremely tedious.”

“Yet he does so well at it and enjoys the compliments of the ambassadors of other realms.”

“Yes, well, he cannot help himself.”

“Are we sure they’re married?” Tony stage-whispered to Pepper.

“Marriage is certainly not a stroll on a pleasure-moon of Alfheim,” Loki muttered.

“Pleasure moons? Oh man, sign me up. C’mon Pep, we can take a vaca—“ Tony cut himself off before Pepper could silence him, but only because his phone was beeping insistently, and because JARVIS spoke up at that moment.

“Sir, Agent Coulson is in the elevator.”

“Didn’t I design a security protocol to keep SHIELD out of here?”

“I apologize, Sir, he overrode it.”

“ _Overrode_ it? JARVIS, how—“ Tony stopped again, pointing an accusatory finger at Coulson as he stepped out of the elevator. “How did you override my security?”

“I’m afraid that’s a company secret,” Coulson replied. “We have a situation.”

“A _situation_?”

“What kind of situation, Agent Coulson?” Thor rumbled. His hand had gone to Mjolnir reflexively.

“It’s Agents Barton and Romanoff.” He held out his hand, and the tiny projector in his palm whirred to life, showing graphs and charts and a map with a blinking point on it, in one of the mountainous areas of Romania. “Agent Romanoff activated her distress beacon approximately eight hours ago. We’ve been unable to make radio contact and we are assuming both are injured and in need of extraction.”

“Natasha Romanoff is in distress?” Sif looked worried; she and the spy had become fast friends, and Natasha had occasionally gone to Asgard to train with the warriors there. “Why have you not made a rescue attempt, Agent Coulson?”

“Yeah, the queen’s got a point. Why not just extract them?”

“It’s not that simple. This site is dangerously close to the border of Latveria, and unfortunately, SHIELD is unwelcome there. Even if we’re extremely careful not to cross into their airspace, von Doom generally doesn’t need an excuse to take down SHIELD assets. We need a small strike force able to move quickly.”

As if on cue, Steve set down his plate and stood up – to his credit, not looking surprised at all when Tony didn’t cut in. “When are we leaving?”

“As soon as possible,” Coulson replied, as if this had been an eventuality rather than a possibility. “We’ll lift you to the Helicarrier and brief you on the way. A security detachment will arrive shortly to ensure that you’re both safe here, Your Majesties.”

“We will be accompanying you” Sif said, just as Loki inclined his head slightly and said “You have my thanks” in reply. They looked at each other, Sif narrowing her eyes.

“I am certain that these four worthies—“ Loki waved his hand in the general direction of the four Avengers in attendance “—will be able to contain the situation and rescue the agents.”

“They are our friends, Loki.” Sif stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “I will not stand by and see our friends go into battle without our aid when we are able to offer it.”

On the other couch, Thor opened his mouth to say something, but Jane put a hand on his arm and gripped a little more tightly than necessary, and he kept quiet. Tony was leaning forward with interest.

“Sif—“

“Do you not wish to honor our own agreements with them, to lend them our aid when needed? This is the sort of thing your magic is made for, Loki.”

There was a moment of silence, the two of them studying each other, until finally Loki sighed and stood as well. “I suppose I have no choice?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well then.” He gave Coulson a thin smile. “Shall we begin?”

*

Natasha pushed Clint, bearing the case, ahead of her as she sprayed bullets behind them from one of the Uzis she’d picked up on this latest mad flight around the underground base. Patrols had flushed them from their hiding spot early this morning (at least, her watch and her internal clock said it was morning) and now they ran deeper into the bowels of the complex.

At last the sound of boots behind them died out, and Natasha led Clint to an alcove mostly hidden behind a rockfall and lowered him to the ground. He groaned as his back made contact with the rock wall and set the case on his legs.

“Can’t keep this up, ‘tasha,” he panted.

He was right, Natasha thought. They were running low on emergency rations, they were nearly out of water (even with barely a mouthful each a day) and Clint’s injury had begun to take on the dangerously inflamed look of infection. If rescue didn’t come soon—

“We’ll rest here tonight,” she told him. “Make for one of the side entrances tomorrow. I remember the map, I know where they are, and I think I can get to one.”

“Picked a hell of a time to become an optimist, Nat.”

She made herself smile, putting her hand carefully on Clint’s uninjured leg. “Just get some sleep, okay? I’ll take first watch.”

With Clint rustling behind her, Natasha went to the opening of the alcove and seated herself upright, the Uzi across her lap. The cave was pitch-black, the only glimmer of light from their glowsticks back in the alcove. She kept her doubts to herself.

*

Winter in the mountains in Romania was harsh; snow was already several feet deep in drifts, most of it in these reaches unbroken, rising and falling in smooth waves. The snow smoothed out into a layer a foot and a half deep in an open glen, not far from the main entrance of the complex where Natasha and Clint waited deep underground. It was silent here, even now in the late morning, silent and cold and peaceful.

In a spray of snow, three people suddenly appeared out of thin air. Steve and Bruce stumbled forward a few steps, stopped only by Loki’s grip on their arms. He let them go and Steve moved to point. 

“Clear,” Steve said. Bruce had walked around Loki, his snow boots sinking into the powder.

“Clear,” he said, scanning the trees around them.

They both turned, but Loki had already vanished again and returned a few minutes later with Thor and Tony, and repeated it one last time with Sif. He let her go with some reluctance, adjusting the lapels of his new battle gear. It was wider at the shoulders, and made him seem more imposing, taller. The gold of his bracers and pauldron glittered in the sun.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Tony coughed, popping the faceplate of his suit. “That is _out of control._ How do you do that? Is that how you always get around?”

“My brother uses it more than I think our parents wish him to,” Thor muttered. He looked slightly pale around the edges, and Loki gave him a very pointed grin.

“The paths are no more dangerous with me around than you flying us both through the sky with Mjolnir.”

“Flying is not nearly as dangerous as the shadowed paths, Father said.”

“Good that you have always had a competent guide, then. When have I ever led you astray along those paths?”

“As fun as this is,” Tony cut in, “We’ve got team members to rescue, and it’s Christmas Eve, so we’re kind of on a schedule here. Argue later.”

“We need to get out of the open,” Sif said. She was scanning the treetops. “We are close enough to the enemy that we still might encounter patrols.”

They made for the trees, Tony blasting snowdrifts when they reached deep ones that blocked their path. When they were under the cover of the pine forest, Loki turned and looked at the trampled snow behind them. With a wave of a hand, he called up a strong wind that blew at the powdery drifts and smoothed out their tracks.

It was midafternoon by the time they reached a vantage point above the main entrance. The snow here was packed down and dirtied from the passage of people and equipment, and as the six of them watched, two crawlers entered the box canyon with a roar of machinery. They disappeared into the open doors and the noise faded.

“So,” Tony said, turning the volume on his external speakers down to an artificial whisper. “Options?”

“There are several side entrances on the map,” Steve said, peering down at the entrances. Four guards paced back and forth in front of it. “A distraction here could draw people inside away from those, so a few of us could sneak in. Some people should stay outside anyway.”

“I’ll be one of them,” Bruce said. “I think we all know I don’t really do well in small enclosed spaces.”

“You _are_ more effective in wide open spaces,” Tony agreed. “But I want Loki on our team, Cap. And Sif. I think between Thor and Bruce, the people inside will be pretty distracted.” He turned his head, glowing eye-slits looking at Thor. “You okay with that?”

“I believe so,” Thor replied slowly. “Brother—“

“Oh, I have you covered, Thor.” Loki inhaled – some of the snow near him seemed to drift inward, as though pulled toward him – and when he exhaled, there were several more Lokis belly-down in the snow behind him. The group of them crawled back.

Bruce had crawled back from the main group as well and was very reluctantly removing his warm outer layers. “Do you think you could keep these for me?” he asked, holding a pair of snow pants and his jacket out to Loki. “I don’t want to be completely naked when we’re done here.” The clothes vanished in a flash of green light.

“We shall give you to the count of five hundred,” Thor said. “Then we will signal.”

“How?”

Loki suddenly grinned and conjured up what looked like a plain black rock, handing it over to Thor. Sif was grinning too, and Tony and Steve suddenly began to look worried.

“What’s that?”

“Our signal.” Sif gave her husband an appreciative look. “Oh, this _will_ be fun.”

“Being king has really only enhanced my ability to be devious.” Loki preened a little until Tony made a disgusted sound.

“Paw at each other when we’ve got Clint and Romanoff back. Otherwise, we’d better get moving. The side door is _not_ a five hundred count away, unless—“

Loki grabbed him and Steve and disappeared, reappearing a few moments later for Sif and transporting her to a copse of trees where the branches had kept most of the snow off and needles, brown and dead, cushioned their feet. Loki was hanging back from Steve and Tony, and Sif paused beside him. He was looking at his hands; he hadn’t commissioned gloves for his battle dress this time, and he’d been laying in the snow…

Sif reached out, hesitated, and then closed her fingers around hands that were blue-tinted and limned with paler blue and white, but were still long-fingered and slender, like she knew well. Loki flinched, but when she did not pull away with a yelp of pain, he looked at their joined hands. Asgardian pink spread out from where Sif grasped him, and he closed his fingers around hers.

“I have told you before,” she murmured quietly. “It matters not to me.”

“Betimes it is difficult to remember,” he replied. “We had best get moving.”

Sif pulled her shield and collapsed glaive off her back and readied them with a grin. “I would certainly not want everyone else to have all the fun.”

When they finally crouched down within sight of one of the side entrances – a metal door set in the rock face, guarded by two men with guns – they crouched down beside the others.

“I’ve had a counter going,” Tony said. “We’ve got about two minutes, give or take.”

“No we do not,” Sif whispered back, and shifted so she could leap forward easily. “Do you really think—“

A roar echoed off the mountains, followed by a huge plume of bright green smoke and flame shooting up into the air. The two guards looked startled, but only until their eyes rolled back into their heads and they crumpled. Steve caught one, Sif the other; Loki conjured ropes around them as Tony hacked the door and it slid open. The guards were deposited in a hastily-emptied armory closet inside.

“Which way?”

Tony consulted his HUD. “We’ve got to head east and down a few levels,” he told them. “Better hope they’ve got things handled at the entrance or this is going to be a very long walk.”

*

Somehow – Steve still wasn’t sure how – they’d gotten separated. Somewhere between going down a level and accidentally walking into the barracks of the off-duty compound guards, he and Sif had split off from Loki and Tony. He’d been able to raise Tony’s helmet comm to hear Tony say they’d be continuing on to get Natasha and Clint, but without a map themselves, Steve was worried he’d just gotten himself and the queen of Asgard lost in an enemy compound.

 _Calm down_ , he thought to himself. _You’ve done this before. You’ve gotten yourself and your team out of worse situations, and none of them were an Asgardian warrior with thousands of years of experience. Sif will be fine, just think._

He edged out from behind the wall he and Sif were crouched by, peeking down the corridor. Clear both ways. He and Sif darted across and jogged onward.

“We’re going to have to find a way out of here,” he said. “I think I know where we are and that there’s a side entrance somewhere near here, but it’ll be a fight to get out.”

“We may be a distraction inside, then, keeping our foes off the rescue?”

“It’ll be dangerous.”

“ _I_ am dangerous, Captain.” She grinned at him. “Lead on.”

*

They had run on once they’d gotten separated from Steve and Sif. Loki wasn’t concerned about his wife; he said she’d fought off something called a _backahast_ by herself once, and Tony had inferred this was no small feat, and having seen Sif in action himself, decided Loki knew what he was talking about.

It wasn’t entirely comfortable, walking through the place with the king of Asgard. Tony hadn’t forgotten the lengths Loki had gone to with Surtur, and hadn’t been completely satisfied with his explanation either, when he’d heard it. For his part, Loki didn’t necessarily trust Tony either, but at least he was a fine battle companion, and useful, as they passed through the complex toward the access point they needed to go below. Even with spells to aid him, it would be easy to get lost in this part of the base; it was a complex of labs with beeping equipment and what looked like shards of glass everywhere. 

Once, Loki thought something had tugged at him, and paused. Magic called to magic, generally, and this was powerful, and familiar, but it had dimmed and disappeared a moment later, and Loki dismissed it. Mortals had no magic that he knew of, and there was no reason to suspect these mortals did either. Certainly there were no wards around the stairs they descended to get to the natural cave system below.

The lower levels were damp and cool and blissfully deserted. They’d had to fight their way down from the access point, but between Loki’s magic and Tony’s repulsors, that hadn’t been much of a problem.

Loki had conjured up a globe of light that hovered ahead of them, helping them pick their way over rockfalls and around stalagmites. The light glittered in gypsum crystals on the cave walls, reflecting gold and the blue of Tony’s reactor, as they followed the steady signal from Natasha’s beacon.

“I was kind of surprised you decided to come along,” Tony said, mostly to break the silence; it was creepy down here. “Even though you’re totally whipped by your wife.”

Loki shrugged. “Sif reminded me of the debts I owe, and whatever fanciful notions your myths perpetuate about me, they have one thing right. I always pay my debts.” He wrinkled his nose. “But I am not _whipped_ , Tony Stark, and before you protest, I have spent enough time with Miss Lewis to know your meaning.”

“You totally are. Sif has you wrapped around her pinky finger – not that I blame you, her _legs—_ ”

“May I remind you this is my wife we are speaking of?”

“I don’t need reminding.” Tony gestured down a side passage that seemed to dead-end in a rockfall. The signal was very strong. “Hell, if I didn’t have—“

“You two are gonna bring the whole base down on us, _shut up_.”

Loki directed his light ahead of them, illuminating Clint sitting upright against the rockfall, his bow across his legs. He looked pale, sweaty, eyes fever-bright, but he was alive.

“You look like shit, Barton,” Tony said brightly. “What the hell happened?”

“Got shot.” Barton pulled a bloodstained cloth away from his side to show the hole torn through his body armor. “Some nasty weapon I’ve never seen before. Doesn’t matter though, damn glad to see you both here, though if this is all the rescue effort SHIELD could get together…”

“Nice. Where’s Natasha?”

“Here.”

Tony and Loki turned to look behind them to where she was unfolding herself from a crack in the wall barely big enough to hold her. Loki’s tone was admiring when he told her, “You have some skill. I did not even know you were there.”

“That was the point.” Natasha slipped her guns back into their thigh holsters and looked at them both. She was grimy, sweaty, her eyes and cheeks sunken, but she was also alert and looked more ready for action than Clint did. “I’m guessing you guys are the extraction?”

“Sif and the Captain are somewhere above us. Left Captain Hammer and the big guy outside to cause a fuss.”

“Oh,” Clint muttered. “There are more of you. That makes me feel better.”

“How are we getting out? There are at least five levels between us and the main floor.”

“If we can get off this level,” Loki told them, “I can transport us outside, to the main entrance. Something in the rock around us is… interfering. I would not want to risk being stuck on the shadowed paths.”

“Think you’re up for that, Barton?”

Clint leaned on the rock wall as he stood shakily, and Natasha went and looped an arm around his middle. “I think we’ll be okay.”

“Go into the alcove behind us,” Natasha said. “One of you grab the black case that’s in there. That’s what Fury sent us for.”

“Is it really that important?”

Natasha gave Tony a long look. “We just spent four days trapped in a cave for that thing. We’re getting it out.”

*

When Loki brought them all back to the ledge above the main entrance it was nearly dark. Rumbles of thunder and flashes of lighting a short distance away indicated Thor was still flying around, but a cough from behind some bushes nearby revealed a very shy, very cold Bruce. Loki gave him back his clothes and when he was dressed, the five of them hunkered down to wait. Bruce did what he could for Clint, but said he needed medical attention fast.

“I don’t like that it’s radio silence from the Captain and Sif,” Tony muttered after about half an hour. “They should be saying _something_.” Loki kept his teeth together, but for all that he knew Sif was a skilled warrior and could easily fight her way out, his concern had been growing too with her continued absence.

“The rock’s pretty thick,” Bruce said. “Could be blocking the signal.”

“Should we go in to look for them?”

“And get lost ourselves? That place is a warren.”

“— _copy?_ ”

They all jumped. “Captain?” Tony said cautiously.

“ _We’re out!_ ” A pause, a crackle of static. “ _But we’re at one of the side entrances. We think we’re on the west end of the base. Any chance of getting directions?_ ”

The five of them looked between each other, with Loki’s face splitting into a very devious grin as he rose and walked a short distance away, the palm of an outstretched hand filling with light as he did.

“Let me handle this,” he said.

*

A short distance away, Steve turned suddenly as a point of light rose in the east, sparkling golden above the trees. It hovered there, bright as a star.

“Looks like we’ve got our beacon,” he said, and pressed his comm. “Thanks, guys. We’ll be there as fast as we can.”

*

“I’m saying it was _cheap_ ,” Tony was still arguing as Loki deposited him on the deck of the Helicarrier’s hangar. Loki gave him a level stare.

“I thought it clever and effective. I admit, I am surprised at the offense you are taking.”

“I’m only _offended_ because it was _cheap,_ ” Tony shot back, but Loki was already gone, reappearing with Thor and Sif. They were the last; Natasha and Clint were on stretchers headed for the medical bay, and as Fury left them with the medics and walked over to Loki, the black case appeared beside Loki’s feet and he picked it up.

“The last time we were in this situation,” Fury said, “Our sides were reversed.”

“I was unaware we had sides,” Loki replied. “Was it not a mutually agreed-upon decision, Director, made for the good of Midgard?” He held the case out, and Fury took it.

“Thank you, Your Majesties,” the director said at last. “Romanoff and Barton both said it would have been much more difficult getting out without you both.”

“Asgard and Midgard are allies,” Sif told him firmly. “When our aid is needed, we will do whatever we can. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are friends and companions in battle, besides. It would dishonor us not to help.”

“They’re two of my best.” Fury watched over his shoulder as the stretchers were wheeled out of the hangar. “And they’ve both been with SHIELD for years. We owe you one.”

“You do,” Tony interjected, clanking his way across the deck. “But I think I know how you can help us out there, Fury.”

*

When it was all settled, Fury made his way to the Command Deck, where Hill was keeping an eye on things for him and Coulson was standing on the observation platform forward of all the consoles. He nodded to Hill, telling her to maintain her post, and made his way down the ramp. Some of the deck crew had decided to get cute and decorate their workstations with lights and decorations. Fury ignored it.

“Agent Hill said it should be clear back to New York, and we’ll be there in a few hours at current speed,” Coulson told him as he walked up. “Did they…?”

“See that this makes it to R&D,” Fury said, handing the black case over. “It’ll need to be dropped off at Harstad. They need it there.”

“I’ll see that it happens.” They both turned and walked back up the ramp. “Do you have any plans for Christmas, Sir?”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

“Some of us were going to have dinner in the mess at five o’clock tomorrow evening. I’ve warned them you might be joining us already. I’m pretty sure they’ll act mostly normal.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks for the invitation, Coulson.”

“Anytime.” Coulson didn’t quite smile, but there was a crinkling around his eyes. “SHIELD isn’t above wanting people not to be alone at Christmas, Sir.”

Fury didn’t quite smile either. “I don’t remember writing that into Policy and Procedures.”

“There’ve been a few amendments made. Unofficially.”

“Unofficially, then.” Fury turned for his quarters. “Merry Christmas, Coulson.”

“Merry Christmas, Sir.”

When he made it to his quarters, Fury sat heavily on his bed and let relief at the safety of his team flood him at last.

“Merry Christmas,” he said to the darkened room, and really smiled.

*

What it was that woke her up initially, Sif wasn’t sure. It was before dawn, that much she knew; the light filtering into the room was still the golden of streetlights, not the pale blue of dawn, and she squeezed her eyes shut and rolled over, trying to get back to sleep. Loki had cocooned himself in blankets as soon as he’d lain down, and Sif had been asleep not long after. They had not returned until past midnight, and all of them had crawled into bed after seeing Clint and Natasha safely installed in the medical floor of Stark Tower.

Warm air passed over her face, and Sif opened her eyes to see Thor’s face exactly two inches away from her. His eyes were big with excitement, and when he saw she was awake, a rictus grin split his face.

Sif did the only thing she could think of in the situation. She hollered as loud as she could and punched him in the nose.

Thor stumbled back with a yell. Loki woke up with a snort, realized Sif was in distress, and started flailing to try and get out of his blankets. Sif struggled to her elbows and stared at Thor incredulously – partially because she wasn’t sure why he was there, and partially because she’d punched Asgard’s prince.

“What in the _Nine Realms_ , Thor?” she yelled at him. Pinching his nose shut, Thor grinned at her, dancing from foot to foot in one of his more obvious shows of excitement.

“Id Cridmas!”

“It is _before dawn!_ ”

Loki finally managed to poke his head the rest of the way out and twisted to glare at his brother. “Thor!” he snapped. “What did I tell you last night?”

Thor quieted, a rebellious look taking over as he lowered his hand from his nose. “Not before seven. But—“

“And what time is it right now?”

“Six…”

Loki flung an arm out of the blankets, pointing at the door. “Out.”

“But Loki—“

“ _Go!_ Someone—JARVIS, make sure he _goes outside_.” When Thor had gone and shut the door behind him, Loki squinted blearily at Sif, still on her elbows. “What did you do?”

Sif looked over. “Thor startled me so I punched him.”

The look he gave her was a mix of gratitude, amusement, and affection. He held one side of his blankets out for her and Sif burrowed back into the warmth, face pressed into Loki’s throat.

JARVIS had apparently taken Loki’s instructions seriously, because when they all came out for breakfast at half past seven they realized he was actually outside on the balcony with his face pressed against the glass. The image was so pathetic that Steve got up to let him in, and Jane made him stand in front of the fireplace to warm up a little more before she’d let him put an arm around her, waist, fingertips brushing her rounded belly through the Culver University shirt she wore.

When everyone had finally eaten breakfast, and a mostly-recovered Natasha had wheeled Clint up from the infirmary, the presents came out. Pepper tried to impose order, but finally gave up with a long-suffering sigh and watched the wrapping paper fly, asking only that they collect the bows on the coffee table so she could save them for next year.

Everyone seemed to enjoy their presents at least. Thor had brought some of Asgard’s texts on the Bifrost, astronomy and mathematics to Earth and had them printed up and bound, and the noise that Jane made when she unwrapped them startled her as much as it startled everyone else. Darcy received gift cards to clothing stores to buy herself a proper business wardrobe, and a note from Pepper offering to take her to some of the more high-end places to be fitted. 

Loki unwrapped a very heavy box with _Love, Tony Stark_ scrawled on the tag, and stared at the contents. “The complete _Harry Potter_ book series.”

“I thought you’d feel at home— _ow_ , Pepper, that hurt!”

“You bought the king of Asgard a children’s book series?”

“I thought it was relevant to his interests! It has magic in it!”

“They are tales for _children_?” Loki was staring at them even more apprehensively now. Jane leaned around Thor.

“They’re actually really good,” she told him.

“Consider it a part of your education on Midgard entertainment and culture that you don’t have to hear from me,” Darcy said helpfully.

Loki set the box down on the couch and stared at it a moment before watching Clint gleefully examine the neatly-lettered labels on a set of magically-enhanced arrows Sif had had made (the tips were good Asgardian steel, the shafts of fine ash, and the fletching from feathers she had selected herself) and Loki had enchanted with various effects. Natasha had a set of daggers, and was hefting them in her hand appreciatively.

“They’re perfectly balanced,” she said. “Thank you.”

Beside Loki, though, Sif was staring at her gifts with a furrowed brow. “What is the meaning of this?”

Loki gave her pile a cursory glance. “They seem like fine gifts.”

“Do you have an explanation for yourself?”

“I know not what you mean,” Loki replied. “I got you presents, Sif. I got you _twelve_ presents for Yule.”

“Loki.”

“Twelve presents?” Bruce leaned forward.

“Traditionally, one for each night of Yule celebrations in the palace.”

“Is that a Yule tradition?” Jane asked, giving Thor an amused look. “I wasn’t aware of that.” Thor shifted uncomfortably.

“They were fine presents,” Loki continued. “Thor, since you seem to be in need of some aid – there is a jeweler on one of the moons of Alfheim who is half mad and completely blind and yet manages to create things truly worthy of a queen—“

“ _Loki!_ ”

He sighed, and gave Steve a look. “Is it ready?” he asked. Steve nodded.

“Frankly, Your Majesty, I think it’d be cruel to keep her wondering why she’s surrounded by motorcycle gear.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Loki sighed, and held his hand out to Sif. “My lady?”

Sif had barely taken his hand before they vanished off the couch. Tony got up a moment later.

“Time to tape pieces of paper over the monitors for the security cams in the garage. Thanks for the tip, Barton, scarring the building guards on Christmas is not something I aspire to.”

Darcy gave Clint a quizzical look, and he looked deeply uncomfortable. “New Mexico. Your old boss and Thor. The rooftop.”

Jane blushed.

*

They appeared facing the elevators in the private garage, and Loki quickly took Sif’s other hand, keeping her from spinning around too quickly.

“What is this about, Loki?” she asked. He smiled, and it was the slightly nervous smile of a lover trying to impress their partner. She felt some of her ire fade.

“Close your eyes,” he told her quietly. “And keep hold of my hand.”

She didn’t need to be told that last, but shut her eyes as asked and let him lead her across the garage. When they stopped, he took both her hands and placed them on something covered in cloth.

“Loki?”

“Take a guess,” he said, stepping up behind her so his chest was pressed against her back. “And then open your eyes.”

She had a good idea, but when she opened her eyes and pulled the cloth off the gleaming motorcycle, Sif still caught her breath. It was a beautiful thing, black and red, with the Harley Davidson logo on the fuel tank. The sigil of her house had been painted on the front fender, with the first rune of her name on one side of it and Loki’s on the other. Sif left Loki behind and walked round it, examining it from every angle, reaching out to run her fingertips over the smooth leather seat and the cool metal.

Loki fidgeted. “Do you like it?”

She gave him a look as she completed her circuit. “Do I like it?” she murmured.

“You could _not_ like it.”

She answered him the only way she felt appropriate, grabbing his shirt and hauling his mouth down to meet hers. As his fingers dug into her hair, thumbs brushing her jaw, she sighed.

“It is a gift far more fine than any other,” Sif whispered against his lips. “Even that necklace from Alfheim.”

It was rare for Loki to be unguarded in his expression and his words, but as her hands moved from his shirt to his cheeks, cupping them, she saw no deception in his gaze, no shadows, and his smile was a true one. She kissed him again for it.

“But how did you come by it?” she asked. “We have barely been here two days.”

“Ah—yes.” Loki grinned, and there was mischief there now. “I asked Captain Rogers to be my proxy in the search and acquisition of it, for he knows more about these machines than I do, and between the two of us we selected it, I gave him the necessary funds, and he informed the rest of what, ah, accessories to get you. He has also offered to teach you its operation, of course.” Loki considered the motorcycle. “I am informed it is a Harley Davidson Night Rod, a very desirable model, and that it should suit you well. The manner of its reveal was entirely my idea, but I take it you are less displeased with me now over that?”

“Oh, much less displeased.” Sif grinned and took him by the hands, seating herself on the bike. “But I could bear some further appeasement.”

Being a very wise man, Loki was only too happy to oblige her.

*

The rest of Christmas Day passed slowly. Everyone pitched in to clean up the mess under the tree, taking their presents back to their rooms. Natasha pulled Darcy aside and they returned with cups of hot apple cider for everyone, and Bruce nearly spat his out when Darcy revealed she’d added brandy, but said at last that it was too good to waste, though he did escape Darcy’s offers of more and go to help Steve with dinner. Tony brought out his Wii after they’d eaten, and nearly choked on his drink watching Thor play tennis, _did_ start choking when Thor and Loki played, and had to be led away to a quiet room after that.

When it had grown late, Loki and Sif had said their goodnights and gone back down to the guest floor, needing some time away from the others. Sif had arranged her gear carefully on one of the tables in the common area; she kept adjusting the helmet so she could see it from her place on the couch, so the lights on the tree could glitter most fetchingly on the silver dragon arcing up the side.

“It looks _fine_ ,” Loki told her. He was halfway through the first _Harry Potter_ book, and grudgingly admitting to himself that Stark had decent taste, simplistic as the tale was.

“It does _now_ ,” Sif agreed, but left off and came back to flip the end of the blanked over herself and lean on his shoulder. “It is as fierce as my own helm.”

“We would not want anyone to get the wrong impression of you, dearest wife.” Loki turned the page, wondering if he could recreate a Remembrall with his own magic. “Any who think you are only soft are sorely mistaken.”

“And any who think you care only for yourself are as well.”

“Well, I could argue that.” He closed the book for a moment. “One could say that by pleasing my wife I make my own life much easier.”

Sif narrowed her eyes. “Did you gift me a motorcycle so that your life could be less difficult?”

“Not at all.”

“Are you lying?”

“Not at the moment.”

Sif sighed, deciding that it truly didn’t matter, and relaxed against him once more. Loki hesitated a moment, but stretched his arm around her and opened his book again.

“Steve tells me that once I am proficient,” she said slowly, “I could carry another rider behind me.” Loki made a noncommittal noise. “Tony calls it _riding in the bitch seat._ ”

She broke into laughter at the horrified look on her husband’s face.

*

“So did you have a good Christmas?”

Clint stretched beside her on the couch, grimaced. “Well, other than getting _shot_ and having my wound get infected, it was pretty good.”

Darcy waved her hot chocolate in an expansive gesture. “You know what I mean.”

The archer was quiet a moment, staring into the fire before he looked back at Darcy. “I didn’t have a lot of good Christmas memories when I was a kid,” he replied quietly. “Guess I’m kind of glad to have some now.”

“Better late than never.”

“Yeah. Yeah, something like that.”

“ _Hey!_ ”

Tony pranced across the floor, a sprig of mistletoe in his hand as he pointed at them. “ _Victims!_ ”

Pepper had her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “Leave them alone, Tony.”

“No, I won’t! It’s Christmas, someone has to kiss someone else under the mistletoe and we already have. We did a lot more under the mistletoe too—“

“ _Tony._ ” Pepper rolled her eyes at Darcy. “Men.”

“They’re pigs,” Darcy supplied helpfully. “I am not your titillation, Tony Stark.”

“You are no fun,” Tony corrected.

“I don’t think either of us want to be exploited, Stark.” Clint’s lips were twitching in something close to a smile though, and as Tony threw up his hands and went to go harass Jane and Thor, Darcy turned to look at him, tucking a leg under her. 

“Now that there’s no pressure,” she said, the only warning Clint got before she leaned over and kissed him.

*

It was nearly midnight before Tony stripped off his pants and crawled into bed beside Pepper, grinning as he looked out over the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Snow was drifting down lazily, but it didn’t dim the brilliance of New York City in the holiday season.

“Good Christmas,” he muttered into his pillow, and pulled the covers up over his head.


End file.
